


Nymphetamine

by ImaginedLife



Category: True Blood
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginedLife/pseuds/ImaginedLife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set just after Sookie returns from Faerie. Basically just angst, sex and more angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nymphetamine

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I came up with shortly after I finished watching Season 4. I love Eric, and I wanted to write something emotional. The inspiration came with listening to a song by Cradle of Filth(yeah, I'm a metal kind of girl).
> 
> 'Nymphetamine' is a combination of two words, Nymphomanic, meaning someone who is addicted to sex, and an Amphetamine is a drug (e.g speed), and it causes the user to have a heavy dependence on it.  
> The word is the title of a song by the band Cradle of Filth, which uses "Nymphetamine" to describe "a drug-like addiction to the woman in question, with her insidious vampire qualities literally bringing her lover back from the brink of the spiritual grave, only to bury him further on the strength of a whim." So... have fun.

She was stronger than him.

Certainly, he was a thousand years old and his physical strength was something he was well aware of, sometimes painfully. But her strength came in other ways, and if she wanted, she could completely overpower him.

When she spoke, her lips were all he could look at. It had taken him a substantial amount of time to figure out the color of her eyes because every time she entered his view, his mind wandered and took him to another world. A world in which she wanted him. A world in which she saw him for what he was, or at least for what he'd wished he could be ever since he first laid eyes on her.

There was something about her. He knew the reason; she wasn't entirely human and every vampire knew that her smell alone could be intoxicating. But still he couldn't convince himself that was all it was. Any other vampire lucky enough to run into her would be carried away by her scent and probably drain her where she stood, but his affection was of a different nature. The one time she'd allowed him to drink from her, when he was injured and weak, it had taken everything he had to stop, but she could make him. Any sound she made that indicated that she was afraid of him made him back away and hide his fangs out of fear that she would run and never come back. Just thinking about never laying eyes on her again, never breathing the scent of her hair again, made him want to go back in time and join his Maker on that hotel roof in Dallas where he'd evaporated into the rising sun. Godric had taken a piece of him. His decision to die had torn him apart, but somehow her presence in his life, no matter how brief, filled the void somewhat. She seemed to carry with her a piece of the sun he would never see again, and that filled him with a joy he hadn't known since his family was slaughtered before his eyes.

And then there was the day when she'd simply disappeared. He was ancient; sometimes his childhood seemed so far away he had trouble remembering his birthday. A year was nothing to someone as old as him. But the year that had passed between her sudden disappearance and her return had seemed endless. Empty. Part of the reason why he'd never accepted the possibility that she might be dead was that he couldn't bear it. He had to believe she was still here. It was a primal need. In one of his darkest days during her absence, the thought had crossed his mind that he had lost almost everyone he ever cared about. Maybe losing her would be the final straw. The void his human family and his Maker had left would simply implode and engulf him. It took him everything to admit it, but he couldn't take any more.

_Cold was my soul, untold was the pain  
I faced when you left me, a rose in the rain_

He didn't know exactly what to call this feeling she evoked in him. As he stood there in the back room of the bar he owned, the bar that filled with beautiful women every single night, the bar that was home to a beautiful woman he could make his own whenever he wanted, he ran his hand through his long hair, stared at his cold blue eyes in the mirror, and wondered if this was what humans call love.

He wouldn't dare admit it. Just thinking about Pam's face was enough. She'd laugh, and she'd have good reason to. He was the ancient vampire who had been a Viking in his human life, a warrior, a lover to many women, sometimes at the same time. Losing his heart wasn't something he did. And he shouldn't be doing it right now.

But when today he'd suddenly awoken, startled, from his sleep, the long missed awareness of her presence piercing through him, he'd realized that this was more than he'd allowed himself to believe. She was like a drug, and to his shame he was hopelessly addicted.

 _Six feet deep is the incision_  
in my heart, that barless prison  
Discolours all with tunnel vision  
Sunsetter, nymphetamine

She was back. He knew it, he felt it, yet he couldn't bring himself to fully believe it until he had seen her with his own eyes. He couldn't bear the thought of being wrong, and waiting in the dark until the sun set today had been close to the hardest thing he'd ever done. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep.  
He turned away from the mirror and headed for the door, knowing he might lose control over these strange emotions, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had never been very good at handling emotions; his cold attitude had suited and protected him for over a thousand years. Godric had made it a habit to comment on that, telling him that true freedom comes with honesty, but he'd never taken his advice to heart. He simply didn't know how. All this time she'd been gone he had been perfectly capable of keeping his mask on, but today he couldn't seem to keep the longing out of his eyes.

Pam was already up when he entered the bar. Her shiny blond hair fell flawlessly down her back. It contrasted with her crimson red lipstick. Her skin tight black dress emphasized her hour glass shape and her perfectly shaped breasts. He looked at her, thought of the day when he'd turned her, and suddenly realized with renewed devotion how beautiful she was. For an instant, as he imagined her inevitable grief, he wished he had never met that girl with her irresistible scent and her mysterious power over him. She was observant, this woman, and he knew that the minute she looked at him she would know. It pained him. They had been together for many decades now and he knew she loved him. He wished he didn't have to cause her pain.

Upon hearing his footsteps she turned around and looked at him. Reading his expression, her face fell. She'd never had much sympathy for the object of his affection.  
'She's back, isn't she?' The way her voice shook worried him. It wasn't like her to portray such sadness. Unwilling to allow her to look into his eyes, he kept his gaze on the floor as he walked towards her, even though he knew she'd see through it.  
'Yes.'  
'I thought so,' she whispered, running her thumb over the drop of blood seeping from his ear. 'Did you sleep at all?'  
'Some.'  
She took a shaky, unnecessary breath, giving herself time to grab a hold of herself and put the pain out of her eyes. He appreciated it, but it didn't fool him.  
'You're in love with her.' It wasn't a question. It was a statement. And as she spoke the words and his dead insides reacted with a force that made his ancient body tremble, he knew she was speaking the truth. As much as he wanted to smile at her, chuckle, put his hand on her soft hair and kiss her forehead, telling her she was too smart to be this ridiculous, he couldn't. He slowly lifted his gaze, aware that he was about to crush her but unable to lie to her.  
'Yes.'  
She was gone sooner than he'd expected. She rushed out of the bar with the typical speed and grace of a vampire, slamming the door behind her, and left him standing there feeling something he didn't feel often. Guilt. He looked at the door, desperately wishing he could go after her and comfort her, but knowing that would only make it worse.  
'I love you, Pam,' he spoke softly, knowing her vampire senses would hear him anyway. He could still hear her quiet sobs after he had closed the door behind him.

The leaves of the forest brushed against him as he ran. His hair flew behind him and got tangled in the branches a few times, but he barely felt it. As much as waiting in the dark for the night to fall had hurt, the time it took him to get to Bon Temps was even worse. He could have easily taken a car, but his mind was so scattered he didn't trust his ability to drive. Somewhere in his lifeless brain he knew Pam was right. This was nothing like him. He didn't fall in love or lose control, but whatever it was that had a hold of him right now, it wasn't controllable.  _He_  was not controllable. He felt his sleepless day taking its toll on him, weakening him, but he couldn't stop. Somewhere in a slumbering part of his mind he could feel a drop of blood falling from his ear onto his muscled arm, but it didn't fully register. For the first time ever he had a one track mind.

_Sick and weak from my condition  
This lust, this vampiric addiction_

Rushing across the cemetary he realized he'd missed something. As he approached the house and his gaze fell upon the darkly clothed figure on the porch he'd been ready to jump on, he remembered for the first time in twelve months that he wasn't the only one who desired her. He came to a halt abruptly, still hiding in the trees, and as an unfamiliar stinging in his feet registered with his brain he realized for the first time that he was barefoot. Blood welled up between his toes.

The figure on the porch was talking in a low voice, speaking of love, devotion and emptiness. He hissed angrily, baring his fangs. This man knew nothing of devotion or even honesty, let alone love. It angered him that he would even consider himself worthy of discussing those things. On top of that, that pitiful excuse for a man was standing in the way of something  _he_  wanted. Suddenly, a primal need arose in him. His true vampire nature surfaced and he growled lowly in his throat, softly, but loud enough for the other vampire to hear. He moved, and there she was. He gasped, his lifeless body glowing with a warmth he'd feared never to feel again. His night vision eyes were unadapted to the radiance and he squinted like a barely awake human as he stared into his version of the sun. He knew it wasn't real, she couldn't be shining the way she did in his perception, but somehow that didn't change the magnificence of it. He stared at her as she stood in the light shining from the house, her hair color matching his own, and he realized that if somehow after centuries of grief, lust and violence he was still capable of love, this was it.

_To her alone in full submission  
None better, nymphetamine_

Her perception of the world changed the night Eric Northman appeared on her doorstep, wide eyed, barefoot and dazzled, with blood leaking from his ears and a look in his eyes she had never seen before. There was a tear in the right sleeve of his black button down shirt, revealing pale white skin over powerful muscles. His broad chest was heaving; though he didn't need to breathe, apparently now he did. His blue eyes pierced hers in such a new, unknown way that she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. She realized that, the same as Bill Compton, he must not have seen her in over a year, but she didn't understand the way it affected him. She couldn't interpret the look in his eyes; it was some sort of mixture of despair, disbelief and desire that somehow made him look very small despite his height. He took an insecure step forward, towering over her, impatiently wiping his long hair out of his vision. She returned his gaze, wondering what he was thinking, and was once again surprised by what she read in his eyes. He looked confused, desperate, almost crazy. His upper lip was pulled back and his fangs were exposed, but as big as he was he didn't seem intimidating that night. She drew a shaky breath and put it to use by speaking his name, surprised. This evidently pushed him over an edge in his mind, because he then did something so unexpected she forgot to breathe for several seconds.

He started crying.  
It started with his lips trembling. Then his shoulders shook, only slightly at first, more noticable later. He stared at her, wordlessly, as crimson tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his pale cheeks. And before she even had a chance to adjust to this situation, he crumbled to the ground, falling to his knees and sobbing like a child. The raw sincerity of his anguish overwhelmed her, breaking her heart. She had only seen him like this once, but that hadn't been over her. This outburst, however, seemed to be very much over her and no matter how much she might have hated this man in the past, right now she couldn't stand seeing him in pain.

She extended her arms and gasped lightly as he crashed into her. His muscular arms slipped around her waist as he buried his face in her dress, his tears staining the fabric. His incredible vulnerability shocked her, nearly engulfed her as he clung to her, sobbing and whimpering like the world was ending. Except for that early morning on that hotel roof in Dallas with his Maker, Eric had always been so much in control. Added to the fact that she couldn't hear his thoughts, the unreadableness of his eyes had always made him seem invulnerable to her.  
Not tonight though. Tonight he looked up at her, his long, pale fingers clutching the fabric of her ruined dress, and passion burned in his ancient blue eyes.

'Please stay,' he whispered, and that seemed to be all the speech he was capable of. She imagined this was what he must have looked like when he was still human. Something moved inside of her as she looked down on him. There was a leaf stuck in his hair. His bloody teardrops stained his face crimson red. His clothes were torn, his bare feet coated with dirt and blood. His powerful muscles rippled as he shook with anguish, his lips pulled back over his extended fangs. He had potential to be very dangerous, that was obvious. But somehow, this strong, potentially merciless creature was crumbled at her feet tonight. Surrendering, she thought. He was surrendering. Never before had she seen eyes as shiny blue as his, and she realized with sudden intensity how heartbreakingly beautiful he was.

She lifted her hand and slowly ran it through his hair, removing the leaf. He shuddered, but to her relief he had stopped sobbing. There was a soft clicking sound as he retracted his fangs, slowly regaining control. There was a buzzing in her insides, the shock of his emotional revelation running wildly through her veins. She marvelled at how different his reaction was to that of the man who claimed to love her like no other, yet repeatedly betrayed her and showed significantly little emotion when he stood on her porch only minutes ago. She looked down at the vampire at her feet, and she realized that whatever it was that burned in his eyes was real and sincere, whether he was capable of putting it into words or not.

She slowly kneeled in front of him so her eyes were at the same height as his. She put her right hand on his cheekbone, answering his intense gaze.  
'I'm not going anywhere,' she spoke softly. He exhaled, the tension in his body lessening somewhat, and his lips pulled back in the beginning of a brilliant smile. A light appeared in his eyes, so hopeful it almost broke her heart. Before she had any control over her movement, she had put her lips on his.

_Bared on your tomb, I'm a prayer for your loneliness  
And would you ever soon come above onto me?_

He gasped, grabbing her shoulders, his large hands covering nearly all of her back. The way he returned her kiss confirmed the almost unbelievable thing she suspected. He  _loved_ her. This untouchable vampire with his powerful body and ancient mind, the Viking who could have any woman he wanted, he loved her. This realization suddenly filled her with unspeakable joy and an aching need to hold him and never let go. She sighed, losing herself in his searing kiss, and as she wrapped her arms around him she tasted the blood on his cheeks.

He growled, a primal yet beautiful sound that made her insides tingle, and rose from his kneeling position, pulling her with him. Her feet lost their touch with the ground and she realized how strong he was as he lifted her so her face would stay level with his. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he groaned again, pressing himself against her as her back hit the wall. Evidently, his physical need for her was as great as his emotional need. She felt it growing through his dark jeans, and she sighed at how right it felt. She tangled her fingers into his hair as he sank his head onto her shoulder. He shivered with powerful emotions she was quite sure he hadn't given in to many times before.

'Don't ever go again,' he whispered into her neck. 'Please.'  
He was truly begging her. And as she kissed him and promised him she wouldn't, she realized that he must have suffered in her absence. Somehow just the thought of that made her want to stay on this porch with him until they both starved. The intensity of his touch made her realize that he must be lonely. She marveled at that, wondering how someone so beautiful could possibly be lonely, but at the same time she recognized the feeling. She, too, had people around her, but she often felt isolated anyway. She sighed, realizing that he filled a void in her no one had ever been able to touch.

_For once upon a time, from the binds of your loneliness  
I could always find the right slot for your sacred key_

She pulled away from him slowly. He hissed softly at the loss, his closed eyelids fluttering. She put both her hands on the sides of his face, wiping his drying tears.  
'Inside,' she muttered, grazing her lips along his jawline. He opened his eyes, the still present fire blazing at her from icy blue oceans. He moved his hands upward, supporting her back as he carried her across the threshold. They didn't make it much further than that. Lost in the moment, they slumped on the rug as he closed the door with his still healing left foot. His weight on top of her felt like fire and protection at the same time. The world could have been outside screaming at them, but she wouldn't have known.

She was just about to go under completely in her new found passion when he suddenly pulled away. His eyes clouded over with something she did not recognize. He suddenly looked thoughtful, as if something important only hit his brain now. His eyes narrowed.  
'Why?' His voice pierced the silence, broke their passionate bubble with an almost audible sensation. She opened her eyes and found him staring at her, waiting for an answer. For a moment, she couldn't remember the question and just stared at him.

'Why?' he spoke again, more violently this time. Anger shone through in his voice. His eyes flared, with something more than desire this time. 'Why did you disappear like that? Do you have any idea what I went through? What everyone else went through?'  
She stared at him again, trying to think of a way to explain the situation to him. She couldn't come up with anything. This only seemed to enrage him more. He rose from the floor, leaving her breathless on the rug, and started pacing up and down the hall. With his long legs, it didn't even take him three steps from one side to the other. And as much as she wanted to answer him, calm him down, she couldn't help but stare at him with new appreciation. He was passionate. It was enticing.

He suddenly hated her. As much as she still made his insides blaze with longing while she lay there speechless, he couldn't help but be overpowered by an acute rage. He assumed it was her disappearance that angered him, the anguish he went through while being uncertain whether he would ever see her again, but as soon as he spoke the words he knew he was wrong.  
'No,' he said loudly. 'No, that's not why I'm angry.' He stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, trying to put his emotions into words. Failing at this attempt only enraged him more. This wasn't something he did. He was a vampire. A predator. Staring down on her, with her hair shining yellow in the porch light and her pink dress ruined by his tears, he felt his insides blaze with frustration over his lack of control. She sat up and gazed up at him, her intensely brown eyes mirroring his own confusion. He opened his mouth several times, trying to form a coherent sentence, but he was unable to. He let out a ferocious snarl, gripping at his hair in frustration.  
'I don't do this, don't you understand? I do not act on impulse. I do not lose control. I do not-' he fell silent there, scolding himself for placing himself in a vulnerable position once more. 'I do not cry,' he finished softly.  
'Yes, you do,' she responded from the floor. 'You cried when Godric died. And you sure as hell cried just a minute ago or something is definitely up with your face.'  
He turned around with vampire speed, snarling at her in fury. There was another clicking sound as his fangs snapped back into place. He was momentarily surprised because she didn't move, but there was no room in his mind for that right now.  
'Godric was my Maker,' he growled. 'His death was probably the most painful experience I will ever have. That bond is a rare one. Speaking of which...' Pam's face then lit up in his mind, the sound of her weeping only now gaining its full effect. 'I can't look at Pam these says without either making her cry or throw stuff around.'  
She stared at him uncomprehendingly, reminding him of how little she knew about his world. That fact made the effect she had on him even more puzzling, and him more angry.  
'I am her Maker,' he reminded her. 'She feels rejected because every time she looks at me, all she sees is this-' He fell silent mid-sentence, trembling. He stared at her intensely, quietly begging her to understand.  
'-this mess. I can not sleep. I can not think. I can not be the person she is used to and she knows it.' Hearing his thoughts out loud seemed to make their reality more difficult to accept. He looked around, a wild look in his eyes, desperate for something to lash out at.  
'I am losing her,' he shouted, as if raising his voice would make her understand, 'because I am acting like a  _human_.' He then launched himself at the first thing within his reach and threw it around the room with a force only a vampire could master. The wooden chair hit the wall with a thundering crash, sending small splinters everywhere and blowing a small chunk of plaster out of the wall.

She gasped and jumped to her feet. Her bloody dress made her look like a human who had lashed out at someone with a knife, or a vampire who had drained someone too violently. A jolt of electricity shot through his body at the thought combined with her intoxicating smell, the desire blazing as if to remind him of its existence. He had to stop himself with force in order not to throw himself at her feet once more. He pushed his hands into his hair again, desperately wondering if after a thousand years he was truly losing his mind.  
'What is this?' he whispered, staring at the remains of what had been a chair only moments ago. He stared into her eyes again, hoping to find the answer there. He didn't. His body shook as he realized he was weeping again. 'What is happening to me?'

_Wracked with your charm  
I am circled like prey_

She watched him, quietly recomposing herself as he slumped down against the wall. His body made a soft thud as he landed in the remains of the chair. Her legs still felt weak from their suddenly intense connection, but it was clear to her that she needed to stay on Earth for another while. She sighed as she covered the distance between them. It took her more steps than it had previously taken him. His knees were pulled up, his eyes fixated on the wall. He trembled, barely noticable, as silent tears fell down his cheeks and onto the floor. She kneeled beside him, putting her hand on his cheek and took a deep breath.  
'Eric. That is enough.' The increased volume of her voice caught his attention and the trembling stopped. He looked at her with questions in his eyes.  
'It's one thing that you ruined my dress. I won't let you crush my house.'  
He sniffed and wiped the tears from his face, and it was the most touching thing she had ever seen.  
'I am sorry about the wall, I will fix it for you,' he offered, and there was something in his eyes that reminded her of a child that had done something forbidden. She grabbed his hand, lacing her fingers into his.  
'I forgive you,' she said. 'But you have to stop freaking out. Surely you must've been in love before.'

'No I haven't,' he answered, his gaze intense. 'Not this way. And I don't know if I can be. I don't know if I can stand it.'  
He then looked at her with such despair that her heart, still broken from another man's manipulative lies, shattered all over again. She breathed in deeply and reached for him.  
'It's alright,' she managed, and that seemed to do something to him. He gazed at her, intensely as was his way, but she had the feeling he was looking right through her, at her very essence.  
'So generous,' he said softly. 'Such... faith.'

He launched himself at her then, the look of a predator slowly regaining control of his blazing eyes. His lips crashed down on hers in a passionate attempt to express his need. He had to have her. By the rules of nature she was supposed to be his prey, but in this situation he had no idea what their roles were anymore.  
She gave in to him without resistance and he growled in pleasure at her submission. She made a soft but very meaningful sound as his large hands ripped the ruined fabric of her dress from her small body. Excitement rushed through him like never before. Through the clouds of time he was suddenly reminded of the effect alcohol used to have on his human body. Intoxicating.

_Nymphetamine, nymphetamine  
Nymphetamine girl_

He reached for the clip on the back of her head, freeing her hair from its confinement. The scent it released made his arousal grow exponentially. He hummed appreciatively as he softly pushed her back down on the rug. She looked up at him, the eyes of a deer in an angel's face, her hands on his hips and their legs entwined. He inhaled unneeded air once more, only to be able to absorb her unique scent, before lowering his lips onto her neck. She whimpered, tangling her hands in his hair. When his tongue made contact with her soft skin, she moaned, squeezing her hands tightly and pulling at his hair in the process. Something changed then. The sensation of slight, tingling pain made the barrier in his mind snap. His fangs clicked into place as he growled like an animal, focused only on the object of his primal desire. His hands cupped her breasts as his head bent down to graze the skin of her abdomen. She moaned more prominently this time, every sound she made making his arousal grow more painful.

She made a sudden move then, pushing her hands against his chest with a force that wasn't powerful, yet startled him enough to take his weight off her. As soon as she was free from his weight, she crawled away from underneath him, pushing him down to the floor so she could hover above him. Her golden hair brushed his face, her scent making his nostrils flare. He reached for her in an attempt to pull her on top of him, but she evaded him. He groaned in frustration, making her smile.  
She fumbled with the zipper on his jeans. Impatiently, he stripped at vampire speed, fully exposing himself to her for the first time. She looked him up and down, a look in her eyes that took him some time to interpret. Longing. He shuddered.

She never imagined wanting him. But as he lay there, naked, his desire for her so obvious in his eyes, his upper lip pulled back exposing his fangs, she wanted him like never before. She lowered her mouth onto him in a swift motion, causing him to groan loudly with a sound that made her long for him intensely. His long, cool fingers slipped into her hair and she marvelled at how sensual it felt. She increased her pace, earning herself a low moan from him. She stopped then, and he hissed at the loss. Her original plan was to hold him off for a while, tease him, but he didn't seem very susceptible to that idea. He rose with inhuman speed, hovering above her and pinning her to the rug. She gasped in excitement at the sudden movement. She didn't fight. Her submission seemed to hit the right spot and he growled again, all traces of human emotion temporarily vanished from his eyes. There was only primal need now.  
'Mine,' he snarled, and if she hadn't been so carried away she might even have feared his intensity.

_For once upon a time, from the binds of your loneliness  
I could always find the right slot for your sacred key_

Slipping into her stripped him of the last of his control. She felt like heaven, like cool, sunny days in Scandinavia and the freedom to roam the country while watching the birds travel the skies. Feelings he thought he had forgotten now forcefully fought their way back into his soul to reclaim their hold of him. Shards of ancient memories flashed before his eyes as the drug-like pleasure took a hold of him. The wind. The rough, undamaged land. The sun. His body trembled as his animal nature fought for control of him, and won. The sound of his own ferocious snarls echoed in his ears along with her helpless whimpers of pleasure as the rhythm of their coupling increased. She dug her manicured nails into his back, breaking the skin and he gasped at the sensation. The light of his homeland during daytime still shone brightly in his mind, and an unfamiliar feeling of grief squeezed his insides. He stopped his thrusting, puzzled. She moaned at the loss, but he barely heard her. The buzz, the light, the memories. The feelings. His eyes widened and he shuddered as he realized what he was experiencing. He was longing for home.

For a split second he considered leaving, horrified, but then he realized she was the only key to feeling like he did in his human days. He stared at her, hoping his expression wouldn't make her think he was insane. Although he probably was insane.  
She begged him then, uttering the word 'please' into his ear, and he lost it again. Her breath smelled of places he had never visited but desperately wanted to go, although he couldn't think of any such place. The air from her lungs brushed his skin in a way that almost drove him over the edge right then, and suddenly wished he could bottle her fragrance and smell it all his days. He growled and lifted her from the rug, supporting her weight with his arms. She wrapped her legs around him and moaned as he slammed her against the wall with a force that would probably leave her with bruises. She didn't seem to care.

He slammed into her with a speed impossible to humans, stimulating her with his fingers as she gasped and whimpered. The images became more vivid, yet his body had other priorities right now. He realized he would probably regret this later. These were bigger emotions than he was used to processing, but he couldn't see logic and he couldn't stop. He wanted her. He had to have her, possess her, make her his own.  
'Bite me,' he growled, and she did. She obeyed faster than he'd expected from her human senses, and with less hesitation too. She made a sound almost as ferocious as his own as her teeth broke his skin and his blood spilled onto her lips, and it pleased him beyond comprehension. He increased his speed and her whimpering gained volume until she was truly screaming. Her body convulsed and she shouted his name with need as her orgasm shook her. He growled as he, too, lost control of his body, and in a blur of primal need he sank his fangs into her neck and drew blood from her with abandon.

The effects of her unique tasting blood took a hold of him almost immediately. He thought he'd been intoxicated by her scent only seconds ago, but as he drank from her and felt his own climax approaching, he realized he'd been mistaken. The human feeling of being under the influence of anything immediately had him thinking about his family, and as he lost himself in his orgasm, for the first time in centuries he clearly saw their faces. He howled with more than only pleasure as he spilled himself inside her, only recognizing his tears when he saw them running down her shoulder.

_She haunted at the corners of my mind  
Sunsetter, nymphetamine_

He clung to her with a despair she had never seen anywhere. At first she thought it was the intensity of his climax, but when the tears started falling again and he started sobbing phrases in Swedish, she realized this was something deep. Deeper than she could ever comprehend. Still recovering from her own mindblowing experience, she put her arms around him and squeezed him with her limited human strength, wondering if he even felt it. He looked up at her then, his eyes filled with things that made her wish she could hear his mind and share his anguish. He was in pain. She knew it. It was with them in the room, almost physical. And there was something else. After all the other emotions he had shown her tonight that she had thought he was incapable of, she didn't think he could still surprise her, but he did. There was fear. Primal, mortal fear, radiating from his eyes as intense as the longing had been.  
'No,' he whispered as he looked at her, running his fingers over his tears on her skin as if to ascertain they were real. 'No, I can not do this.'

_So I swore to thy razor, that never, enchained  
would your dark nails of faith be pushed through my veins again_

Pamela Swynford de Beaufort had never seen her Maker quite like this before, and she was positively sure that she never would again as long as she roamed this Earth. He came rushing into the bar like an autumn breeze, and her joy at his return was immediately silenced by the anguish she sensed through their unique bond. She couldn't recall ever feeling such intense grief from him before, and as he stood in the middle of the bar for minutes, his bewildered eyes begging her, commanding her to understand, she realized why. She closed her eyes and saw flashes of Scandinavian land. Daylight. Faces of people she didn't recognize, but she knew he had loved. As she took the time to interpret everything, including the look in his eyes, she realized the intensity of the state he was in and she shuddered. Horrified, she walked towards him and touched his face, as if to ascertain he was still alive.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly. 'You should not have to see me like this. I should have stopped this when I still could.'  
She shook her head, staring into his eyes and discovering layer after layer of suppressed grief and intense confusion. 'Oh, Eric,' she whispered, too shocked for any other words. She stepped closer to him, careful at first to see if he would resist her. When he didn't, she threw her arms around him and pulled him close, wishing she could feel this in his place, but thankful she could at least feel it with him. Absent mindedly, he circled his arms around her, cradling her like a child, and she could feel him taking comfort in her presence.  
'What are we going to do?' she asked, because even though he hadn't said so, she was certain they had to take some sort of action.  
'Leave,' he answered, his voice low and heavy with emotion. 'We will leave, for any place other than this. We will hunt, and we will run, and we will fuck every night until sunrise. We will live like we used to before, and eventually I will forget.' Somehow, he didn't sound fully convinced, but she knew he meant it. She pulled away and nodded, realizing she'd been crying tears that didn't belong to her.

_Fold to my arms, hold their mesmeric sway  
And dance her to the moon as we did in those golden days_

And they left. Before sunrise, they were out of the state. She knew they would be back, even though right now he didn't want to. They picked up old habits like they never broke them, and it was beneficial to both of them. But every morning at sunrise, before she drifted off to sleep, she saw images of Sweden and people who died centuries before her human life began, and she knew he wouldn't forget. For as long as he walked the Earth, he would never forget.

_Nymphetamine, nymphetamine  
My nymphetamine girl_


	2. Terrible Love

The first time Pam had sex with Eric after their unexplained departure from Shreveport, she remembered why she had vowed never to become involved with a man as long as she lived, and also why he had always been her only exception to that rule. It wasn't just because he was a fantastic lover. It was because the whole experience was intoxicating, even to her. She suspected that he'd had this mesmerizing power even before he was turned, and she knew it was misleading. Yet she couldn't help but be swept off her feet and give in every time he needed the distraction, and she often felt angry afterwards. Sad. Hopeless.

Their whole adventure wasn't going anywhere. It was a scattered, useless undertaking that only ever took them to places they had already seen. They'd had too much time on Earth, especially him. There was hardly any ground left for surprises.

The night was young, like the illusion of their bodies as they lay entwined in a king sized bed somewhere in a ridiculously expensive hotel. She was pinned beneath him, knowing she couldn't fight him off, and despite the dread in the pit of her stomach she knew she wouldn't even if she could. She could see his muscles move under his pale skin, hear the low rumble in his throat as he ravaged her like he could no human, and as she scraped her nails across his back she wondered how beautiful he must have been to Sookie. An unwanted image popped into her head and she growled in frustration. Misinterpreting the sound, he growled back at her, clawing at her hips like an animal and increasing speed. She moaned, temporarily distracted. Her mind took her back to the first time she had ever seen him, through her human eyes. Through the clouds of time she remembered how her human mind had marvelled at how amazingly beautiful he was, at the heartbreaking complexity in his deep blue eyes.

_It's a terrible love and I'm walking with spiders  
_

She sighed. She had gotten to know him on a level nobody else ever had and nobody else probably ever would. He shared everything with her, showed her every part of his ancient mind. She had found out that living for a thousand years didn't necessarily mean finding peace. During the time she had spent with him, she had seen countless images from his mind. Images of animals he'd hunted, women he'd made love to, people he had loved. He had seen civilizations come to an end, wars being fought. He had even participated. He had murdered innocent people. Eaten them like animals. Played with them, abandoned them, broken their hearts. He remembered all of their faces, and because of their connection, so did she. He remembered ancient landscapes; countries in the shape they'd been in centuries before her grandparents were even born. She had seen the world through his ancient eyes, and even though there was endless beauty in those pictures, unmistakably there was also grief. Rage. Deep, blazing pain. Remorse. Love. And because she had come to know him like no other, she knew that even after a thousand years he hadn't learned to process these things. He hadn't come even close.

Her train of thoughts was interrupted by her body's need for release. She snarled at him, pulling him towards her so she could grind her lips against his. When he growled at her, she bit him, angrily, drawing blood from his lower lip. He hissed at her, baring his fangs. She pulled back her upper lip and snarled again, showing him hers. She was not about to allow him the illusion that he controlled her. This had very much become a fight for her, and she regretted that. But she couldn't help wanting him, wishing she could be human again and take the place of the woman she knew he wanted. But that wasn't her, and that wasn't her place in his existence. It wasn't his place in her existence. For now, however, in this moment, she tried to imagine that it was, for his sake and her own.

_It's a terrible love and I'm walking in  
its quiet company_

His mind was all over the universe. It filled him with frustration, because he had thought returning to his old lifestyle would bring him back to the man he used to be. He had been sure it was only her proximity that drove him insane, only her intoxicating blood that pushed memories from his human life into his head; memories that had been blurry and ancient before. He had thought that having sex the way he used to would make him forget about the emotional turmoil he had felt while being intimate with her. He had thought the images would fade in time. He had been wrong.

The sex still distracted him. Physical pleasure only took up a very limited amount of space in his mind, but anything that lessened the intensity of everything else was a welcome relief. During the time they'd been away, he'd had sex with Pam practically every night, and he had been endlessly grateful for her presence in his life, for the way she'd squeezed his leg for only a split second when their car had pulled out of Louisiana and his muscles had tensed with anguish. He had been sure back then that she could remind him of who he was. He had been sure she could help him excorsise the images from his mind.

But when he dug his nails into her shoulder and his teeth into the flesh of her left breast and growled with the release of his orgasm, a switch flipped on in his brain and he saw flashes of her face. Her shiny yellow hair. The light radiating from her being as she lost herself in passion. And before he had any control over his mind, Scandinavia during daytime flashed before his eyes. The place he'd grown up in. The people screaming, the howling of wolves. The lifelessness in the eyes of the only people he had ever known. Their faces, their excruciatingly motionless faces. The blood on his hands after he watched his father die. The bodies scattered, the beating of his heart when he'd realized he was left alone. Death. Silence. The sound of his own voice as he had cried out in grief and despair.

He rose with a speed that frightened even himself. The lamp from the night stand flew across the room, crashed into the wall with a loud thud and landed on the floor without a scratch on it. He loudly cursed in Swedish to keep himself from punching the wall. Damn vampire hotels. Why did they have to make everything so resilient?

When he looked to the right he caught a glimpse of Pam standing across the room, one of the sheets from the bed wrapped around her slender body. She looked anxious. Desperate. Frustrated. Her hair was messy and her eyes bewildered. He could smell her sweet shampoo from where he stood and hear the shaky breath she drew when she looked at him. He could tell she was fighting not to cry and he couldn't stand it. She spoke his name, her voice unsteady, and he could already feel the horrible truth in what he knew she was going to say. He clenched his hands into fists, his nails digging into the skin of his palms.

'Please don't,' he whispered. He knew he could command her not to speak, but instead he begged her, surprising even himself with the intensity of it. He hoped she could hear the unspoken apology in his mind. He simply didn't know what to say to her.

She slipped back into her dress in seconds. Like always, she understood him, and that fact only made this worse. 'Get some sleep,' she said before exiting the room. She didn't tell him where she was going, but he knew without a doubt that she'd be back without him having to summon her.

He was resisant to follow her advice. He hadn't slept in days and the bleeds were slowly getting out of hand, but falling asleep was difficult. Lying in the dark with only his mind to accompany him was a horrifying experience. So he stood in the corner of the room, naked and bewildered, for hours without realizing. The emotions were controllable when he wasn't near the person who had provoked them so suddenly, but in a way that was even worse. The images of his dead family flashed before his eyes and he was capable of feeling nothing, only emptiness. It made him feel hollow. He thought about Pam and the unspoken pain in her eyes, about the way he had used her and her devotion to him to run away from things that were too big for him to handle. Hatred crept inside him, directed at the person he'd become, and for the first time in his existence he thought to himself that he really was a monster.

_And I can't fall asleep without a little help_  
 _It takes a while to settle down my shivered bones  
_ _Until the panic sets_

Pam was hunting. She knew she was in no state to have to control herself, but she had no choice. She hadn't fed in days, unwilling to leave him. She didn't want to admit it, but she feared he might do something that couldn't be corrected. She was thirsty though, and she needed her strength.  
She enjoyed the sensation of the wind on her face while she crouched on top of an office complex. This city was large, but it was easy to cross it and difficult to get lost. If there was anything positive about this situation, it was the small amount of enjoyment she got out of hunting in a different place. They had been here before, shortly after she was turned, and her memories of anything that had happened after she'd become a vampire were clear as day, but it still felt refreshing.

On the pavement beneath her, oblivious to her stare, was a young girl in a very short skirt and a tank top. She was wobbling in the high heels of her ten dollar shoes, and Pam sniffed in disapproval. Cheap shoes. That was a good enough excuse.

The girl didn't scream when she sank her fangs into her neck and fed almost absent mindedly. Her blood tasted slightly off; probably drugs. For a moment she wished she were still susceptible to human drugs. She wondered what Eric had felt when he had tasted the blood that had nearly driven him insane. She wondered what he had seen in that hotel room just now. She wondered whether she was ever going to convince him that he had to stop running.

She didn't like what this unique half-human did to her Maker, but she knew better than to think it could be made undone. Watching him the way she had for these last few weeks had driven her to the only conclusion that made any sense. He must really be in love with this girl. She must really be the only person on Earth who could help him deal with the things that were keeping him awake and turning him into a frightened child. And as much as it pained her to lose the most important person in her universe to someone like her, she knew it would probably help him. She loved him, and she knew the consequences. She couldn't let him suffer. She was physically unable to.

'I wasn't here. This never happened,' she said to the shivering girl without really thinking about it. Glamouring people was second nature to her like it was to any vampire. She was about to let the girl go and disappear when her eyes once again fell on the cheap pumps.

'Oh, and one more thing. Throw away the shoes.'

The girl nodded, staring mindlessly into her eyes. When she let her go, she stumbled aimlessly into the darkness, losing her balance every few steps. A stab of anguish shot through her as she realized what that reminded her of. Her body shook with sobs as she cried cold, bloody tears over his pain once more.

_It's a terrible love and I'm walking with spiders_  
 _It's a terrible love and I'm walking in  
_ _its quiet company_

Sookie Stackhouse was lost. Back in what seemed like another lifetime, the idea of her boss being a shapeshifter had seemed like too much to comprehend. But today, as she sat on the porch of her grandmother's faded yellow house and pondered that night nearly three weeks ago, she felt as though her mind might rupture. She desperately wished Gran were still alive to help her make sense of the way she felt. But Gran wasn't alive, and she was all alone on the porch that suddenly seemed enormous. When she closed her eyes, she could still see him on his knees, taste his tears on her own lips, smell the forest in his hair. The look in his eyes as he had clung to her had made her so, so sure he would never betray her. She was still unwilling to believe he would. But if that was true, then what happened? Where was he? She didn't want to listen to the part of her that said he was likely never coming back, but she couldn't overlook the fact that Pam was missing too. He wouldn't take her with him if he planned to come back.

She never thought she was capable of falling in love in an instant. Even with Bill, it had taken her a while. But with Eric, it had been different. Something had switched on inside of her when he had begged her not to leave and decided that from now on, she was obligated to love the tall, blond vampire at her feet. She had been determined to never make him suffer again. But as his absence slowly burned a hole in her memories of that night, she had no choice but to conclude that apparently she had.

He had been gone faster than she had been able to comprehend, but the grief and the fear she had seen in his eyes had stayed with her. Somehow, she had provoked something inside him that had sent him running for the hills. Frustration coursed through her at the thought and she wondered why it was that all the men in her life were either afraid of her or lying to her.

She snapped abruptly out of her thoughts when the phone rang. Startled, she rose to her feet. She rarely received phonecalls anymore. Without consciously wanting to, she had pretty much withdrawn from everyone in her life, unwilling to abandon her endless trains of thought about Eric to participate in social situations.

She got to the phone just in time. 'Hello?' It sounded hoarse. She didn't speak much these days either.

'Sookie, it's Pam.'

'Pam? Oh my God, where are you? Where's Eric? Is he-' She swallowed, attempting to block the horror scenarios from her mind. 'Is he okay?'

There was silence on the other end of phone, and then a sigh so miserable that she immediately knew Pam was suffering worse than her. Her stomach turned and she suddenly felt sick. 'Pam, talk to me. Please.'

'Calm down. Eric is...' She didn't seem to know how to finish that sentence. That wasn't reassuring.  
'He's with me,' she concluded. A light switched on in Sookie's mind. He was still there. Her brain then went into overload and she started blurting question after question down the phoneline.

'Where are you? Why the hell didn't you tell me? What-'

'Sookie, listen.' Pam's voice, for the first time ever completely empty of sarcasm and impatience, drew her attention. In fact, she sounded like she'd been crying. She wondered with sick fear what could get Pam into such a state except something horrible involving Eric.

She heard Pam taking a deep breath down the phone, apparently struggling with how to deliver her message. She sighed before she spoke again.

'He's not doing well. You have to come get him.'

He would be mad at her if he knew. In fact, he would be furious. If he hadn't finally been sleeping, he could have commanded her not to do what she just did, and she wouldn't have been able to disobey him. But she had beat him to it, and even though she hated herself, she hated Sookie and she hated this situation, she knew she had acted in everyone's best interest. Including her own.

When she had returned from hunting, he had been curled in the fetal position on a corner of the bed, wearing shorts and a white T-shirt. She had thought he was sleeping, so she had covered him with a sheet and planned to walk away, but he had grabbed her hand and stopped her.

'I'm sorry,' he had said, his eyes on the wall in front of him. 'I should not have dragged you into my misery.'

'No,' she had answered. 'No, you shouldn't have. But you did, and I'm here, and I'm telling you, Eric...' She shivered unwillingly, hating the words she was about to speak. 'We have to go back.'

'No, I won't go back.' He hadn't moved, hadn't even raised his voice. The simple meaning of what he said next was enough to crush her. 'You have to go back alone.'

She had gasped. 'No.' Getting up, she kneeled by his side of the bed and stared at him furiously. 'If you think I'm going to leave you here, you are seriously-'

He silenced her with his stare. Sitting up, her put his hand on the back of her head as had been his habit for decades. 'I'm sorry, Pam. But I can not do this to you anymore. You will go back.'

Her eyes filled with tears and she sobbed, knowing what would come next.

'As your Maker, I command you.'

She watched his sleeping figure and silently apologized to him. She would have given anything to be able to help him herself. She would have died to protect him, given up her soul to take his suffering away. But she couldn't, and she knew it, and she was down to her last bit of strength.

'I'm sorry, Eric,' she whispered. 'I can't take any more.'

 _And I won't follow you into the rabbithole_  
I said I would, but then I saw your shivered bones  
They didn't want me to

She got into the car anxious and exhausted, driving slowly even though that wasn't like her. She hoped her desperate action wouldn't turn against her.  
She thought of the flashes of his memories that had slipped into her mind during their intimate moments. Once again she saw the sun, birds she'd never seen before, a blue sky. Remembering his grief over never seeing it again, tears welled up in her eyes. The anguish of these past weeks fought for a way out and she sobbed until she couldn't drive anymore. She pulled over on the side of the road and cried for everything she couldn't do until her tears dried up. Then she started the car and drove back to Shreveport.

_It takes an ocean not to break_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah. Everyone suffers at my hands. Sorry about that. I should warn you though, because I've been a little stuck on this story for a while now. Might take me some time to come up with a new chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know Eric is kind of a prick. I wrote him a little dark I suppose. Feedback is very welcome.


End file.
